


Not Your Everyday Arthurian Fantasy

by sophielou21 (Scarlettpeony)



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, At least they try to be with Uther as a dad, F/M, Merlin-Morgana-Mordred Theory In Full Swing, Modern Albion, Non-Canon Relationship, One Big Happy Family, Unplanned Pregnancy, Uther-Morgana-Ygraine-Morgause-Arthur Family Theory In Full Swing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-19
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-08 01:39:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10374999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlettpeony/pseuds/sophielou21
Summary: Gwen gives Arthur the shock of a lifetime when she tells him she is pregnant. Deciding to keep the child, they embark on the difficult task of telling their friends and family members the news - and leave a path of chaos in their wake.[Originally posted on LiveJournal in 2010, under the title 'One Morning On Wednesday' following a prompt on the then-Arthur/Gwen community Camelot_Love, posted by a friend. This is a tongue-in-cheek reimagining of BBC Merlin's Camelot set in a modern alternative version of Britain - or Albion - today.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of my salvaging of my publishing and unpublished Merlin fiction I wrote during the height of the show's influence under the name sophielou21 on human_trash @ LiveJournal.
> 
> Over the next few weeks, I will be trying to post the slightly amended chapters to this fic. I have had to go back in and fix it as this was originally an abandoned fic, which I left due to - if I recall correctly - a rather nasty and long email sent to me by someone within the Merlin fandom. Being much younger then, I hid the work and left it, only keeping the first chapter (this one here) visible. However, I will be posting everything I did for it here.

Gwen stepped out of the doctor’s office and stood there in disbelief. The receptionist called up a mother with her fluey son. She ducked out of their way quickly, especially when the boy tried to reach out for her, all snot-wet nose and sticky hands. The mother dragged him to one side and hustled him through the door.

 

She was left standing there, dazed. The people waiting in the surgery coughed invariably and some looked up from out-of-date magazines to stare at her. She was slightly more interesting to look at than the old and forgotten health posters for swine flu. It was replaced now simply by a seasonal flu poster telling the over sixties to get their standard flu jabs if they hadn’t already got it.

 

“You alright, love?” one slightly overweight middle-aged man asked.

 

Gwen was yanked out of her thoughts and smiled nervously.

 

“I’m fine,” she said.

 

She quickly rushed across the waiting room and out the front door. Once she was outside she stopped and turned back to look at the surgery building again. On the wall the plaque read ‘Dr. B. Ambros’.

 

Gwen stepped to one side, this time not blocking a door, and leaned against the wall with one hand on her flat abdomen. _I’m pregnant?_ her inner voice said weakly, _Why did this happen to me?_ She moved away from the wall and began to walk on down the street. Then her inner voice piped up and reprimanded herself by saying, _You shagged Arthur Pendragon one too many times, that’s why!_

Gwen sighed. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her mobile. It was 9:22.

 

 _That’s good_ , she thought because she would have to tell Arthur and if it had been a few hours later she might have wanted to meet in the pub. That would have been a bad idea; in her state of shock a nice drink would look appealing no matter that she was pregnant.

 

She would go his place, it wasn’t that far away. It was Wednesday, so he didn’t have a lecture or seminar; he’d either be still in bed or just getting up...

 

 _That is at least something_ , she figured.

 

Gwen sent him a quick text. ‘I’m coming over’ it read. She had never been that good at text-speak. Not like Merlin; he would send such coded text you would need the Enigma machine to decode it. Often people had to wait to see him again to get the translation. She and Arthur had wasted a whole hour standing at the cinema waiting for him because they couldn’t work out that he was meeting them at eight not seen.

 

Arthur’s place was ‘roughly’ only a ten minute walk from the centre of town; she knew because Merlin had timed it one night as they helped him home from the pub after he’d had too many. He really needed to get a life. Not that she and Arthur weren’t guiltless of having too much time on their hands. That was probably why Gwen was now pregnant; there was never anything good on TV on Sunday.

 

Gwen let herself in with her own key. She checked her phone again. It was 9:35 and he had not replied. She must have lingered a little on the way as she wondered how she was going to break the news that they had _procreated_.

 

“Hello?” called Arthur’s voice came from the kitchen ahead of her.

 

“It’s only me!” Gwen called back.

 

She left her keys in the special bowl she had bought him while moving his keys (Thrown in the bowl’s general direction but not making it) there as well. He’d never find them if they weren’t in that bowl and she wasn’t there to find them for him. They missed the beginning of an important lecture rummaging around for his stupid keys.

 

Arthur was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. He must have got up when he received her text. He wasn’t dressed yet; still wearing an old shirt and shorts that he slept in at night and his hair messed up, standing on end.

 

Gwen wondered if it was wrong to still find him attractive in this morning attire. _It’s that sort of thinking that got you into this mess in the first place!_

 

He looked up as she stood watching him at the kitchen door. “Are you alright?” he asked. “I thought you had a seminar first thing.”

 

“I pulled a sickie.”

 

He clicked his tongue teasingly. “Dear, dear... Ol’ Gaius will not be impressed. You’re like his favourite student. Are you really sick or did you just fancy a day off?”

 

“I went to see the doctor this morning,” Gwen told him.

 

“Did he give you something for whatever it is?” he asked, sipping his tea.

 

“This isn’t something you can cure with antibiotics, Arthur!”

 

He looked up, immediately frightened by her inclination that something was wrong.

 

“What is it?”

 

Gwen had thought to phrase it in a better way than _this_. But now he was worried and she had to tell him to put his mind at rest. Or at least stop him worried she was seriously ill or something. She bit her lip and rolled on her heels back and forth.

 

“I’m pregnant,” she said quickly.

 

That struck him dumb for all of ten seconds. He sat staring at her with his eyes gradually getting wider and trying to speak three or four times. Eventually, of all the things he could say, he said “Are you sure?”

 

“Three pregnancy tests and _a doctor’s opinion_ sure,” she snapped back.

 

“You want to ask another two doctors?” he said, trying to make a joke. Gwen just glared at him and he immediately stopped. “How the hell did you manage to do three pregnancy tests?”

 

“I didn’t do them all at once, Arthur.”

 

He nodded slowly, before rubbing his eyes and trying to think of something sensible to say.

 

“It’s yours, by the way,” Gwen added suddenly.

 

“I should bloody hope so seeing as you’re _my_ girlfriend!” he said, again trying to sound humorous but ending up sounding strangely serious. “If it were Merlin’s I’d kill him... but when my dad finds out I ‘pulled a Morgana’ by getting you pregnant _he’ll kill me_.”

 

Uther Pendragon had never quite got over Arthur’s sister ‘ruining her life’ and getting pregnant at eighteen. To be honest Arthur had never got over it either, not least because she had shagged Merlin in order to do it. It had damn-near almost ruined their friendship. Arthur had been naturally pissed off (and weirded out) that his best friend and big sister had _gone together_. Uther was unwilling to blame his daughter for her stupidity, or both her and Merlin for their mistake, and instead chose to pile all the blame on Merlin alone.

 

The cherry on the cake was soon after the pair of them had recreated – and procreated – Merlin and Morgana decided they couldn’t stand each other, and their son Mordred had been an arguing point for both of them ever since.

 

Still, at least Arthur and Merlin were still friends.

 

Gwen slumped into the chair beside him. “I’ll protect you from him.”

 

“...from who?” Arthur asked, having forgotten what he had said before.

 

“Your father”

 

“Oh!”

 

He turned his head sideways to face her. Regardless of how difficult things were about to become Arthur was already determined not to make a mess of this like his sister did or Merlin did. He and Gwen... they were _steady_.

 

“Obviously we have things to discuss...”

 

“We do,” she replied softly.

 

“How... pregnant are you?”

 

“The doctor said about ten weeks.”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Nearly three months.”

 

“You went that long without realising...?”

 

“Yes, Arthur.”

 

He leaned back in his chair and titled his head thoughtfully. “Ha...”

 

“What?”

 

“Three months ago,” he chuckled with amusement. “That was when we were up at my parents’ country house and got snowed in over Christmas and the New Year. We did it _a lot_ during that time. Go figure.”

 

“This isn’t a joke, Arthur!” Gwen groaned. “This is... an actual person.”

 

“I know this isn’t a joke,” he said seriously. He took one of her hands. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s fine,” she said squeezing his hand in reassurance. “The doctor offered me a dating scan.”

 

“Great,” Arthur said uncertainly. “What’s that?”

 

Gwen tilted her head. “It’s my first ultrasound.”

 

“I knew that!” Arthur said, looking a little daft with his messy hair and confused eyes. “I remember that from GCSE science.”

 

“That’s ultra _violet_ ,” Gwen smirked.

 

“I knew that,” he said quickly, trying not to sound daft. “It’s just... I remember in biology they said that you could see the baby though ultra _sound_...”

 

That sounded so stupid he could feel himself inwardly cringe at his naivety.

 

To Arthur’s surprise Gwen laughed and shook her head. Her free hand reached up to stroke his perplexed face. She sighed, “You look so gorgeous when you’re confused! I never stood a chance, did I?”

 

And she leaned over to kiss him.

 

 

*

 

 

A few weeks later Arthur and Gwen were sat in the room of a clinic waiting for the person to take the ultrasound of Gwen’s uterus. All the technical babble was starting to confuse Arthur. But he still nodded along at the risk of looking stupid.

 

The only knowledge of reproduction he had was from science at school. His teacher – an ugly old bat called Ms Hannon – set the class the task of labelling the female reproductive parts on a badly drawn chart. There wasn’t a straight face in the class. It wasn’t quite as funny as Mr Davis though with his red face gone purple with embarrassment teaching them how to put a condom on a cucumber in PSE lessons.

 

 _Obviously_ that _worked very well_ , Arthur thought. _Thanks Mr Davis!_

Gwen was lying on a bed. She looked over and noticed Arthur’s amused expression.

 

“What’s funny?” she asked.

 

“Nothing, just thinking...”

 

Arthur was in his second year of studying History and Politics, a subject forced on him by his father while being an active player in any political or sports society the university could throw at him, also at the behest of his father – although he did enjoy the latter more than the former. During the last six years since his GCSE Science exam, on which he got a C, the only female reproductive parts Arthur ever needed to remember were external ones.

 

Public school education... _what a gift!_

 

Arthur noticed a model of the female uterus. He chuckled again.

 

“What is it?” Gwen asked again.

 

“Ms Hannon used to have one of those.”

 

“Most women do.”

 

“No I mean the model,” Arthur corrected himself. “Although I don’t know... most of us used to think she was a bloke in drag.”

 

“That’s a nasty thing to say!”

 

Arthur turned back to her a smiled. “Was your science teacher an old bat, too?”

 

“My science teacher was Mr Campbell,” Gwen sighed nostalgically. “He was an Australian. His girlfriend was Miss Briggs; she was my English teacher. There was ten years between them—he was her _toy-boy_.”

 

“I wish my school was as interesting as that.”

 

“I went to the good old comprehensive,” Gwen told him with a smile, “Unlike you, public school boy!”

 

“I suppose you got full marks on your GCSEs?”

 

“I only got a C in Science. Just.”

 

“Me too. Just.”

 

“Ha.” Gwen shifted a little and smiled. “Maybe if one of us had got a B we wouldn’t be here.”

 

“Maybe, although I don’t blame Hannon for this; I blame Davis, him and his stupid cucumber.”

 

Gwen didn’t have time to ask him what it was about Mr Davis’s cucumber that Arthur blamed as the ultrasound-taker-person (Arthur didn’t know their actual job title) came in.

 

Not that she had to think about it much. She remembered her own PSE lesson when the school nurse talked to them about STDs, contraception and the correct way to put a condom on a cucumber. One thing that Gwen could say for certain was that putting a condom on Arthur’s cock was very different than rolling it onto a cucumber. No wonder she was pregnant.

 

The man who was going to take the ultrasound – the ultrasound technician – was a stout man with a red face. To Arthur he could have been the illegitimate child of Ms Hannon and Mr Davis. He had pictured a woman when they said they would get someone to take the ultrasound. He was very weary of the fact it was a man.

 

“Good afternoon,” the man said cheerfully. “I’m Dr Pervis and I will be taking the ultrasound today. Dr Ambros referred you to me. I understand this is your twelve week scan?”

 

Gwen nodded. Arthur had stopped listening the moment he heard the bloke’s name. What sort of name was ‘Pervis’ for a _doctor_?!

 

Dr Pervis turned to Arthur. “I take it you’re the father?”

 

“No I just came along to watch,” he said sarcastically. Gwen glared at him. Dr Pervis just stood there nodding. Arthur cleared his throat, “Yes, I am the father.”

 

The doctor with the unsettling name proceeded to rub some sort of solution on Gwen’s abdomen. He then sat looking at the scanner screen as he ran a ‘probe’ along. Arthur watched that probe-thing so carefully that he was taken by surprise when suddenly there was a whooshing sound.

 

“What’s that?”

 

“That’s the baby’s heartbeat,” Dr Pervis told him with a smile.  He turned the screen around so they could see for themselves. “That’s the head. That’s an arm. You see the outline of the spine—”

 

“It already has a heart?!” Arthur said in surprise.

 

Dr Pervis pointed to a little flickering part of the image. “Definitely, that’s what the whooshing sound is. There it is there.”

 

“Don’t mind Arthur,” Gwen said softly. She was staring at the screen with one hand clenched over her own heart. _She sounds emotional_ , Arthur thought. He felt a little tug at his stings too but he was more surprised that the foetus actually looked like a baby. “He got a C in Science.”

 

“Yeah, so did you.”

 

“So did I,” said Pervis. “Don’t tell anyone.” He was supposed to be joking but Arthur didn’t think it was that funny. “I’ll leave you two to talk but is there anything you’d like to ask before I do?”

 

“Yeah, do people make fun of your name?” Arthur said without thinking.

 

“Arthur!”

 

Pervis just laughed, “All the time! I’ll be back in a moment.”

 

He left them both looking at the screen. They still found it hard to believe that they had made that surprisingly human-shaped thing before them. It was also hard for them to believe that it was alive and with a beating heart inside Gwen’s tummy. And to think if Nurse Hazel or Mr Davis hadn’t been such poor demonstrators they might have not had this moment.

 

Gwen sighed, “I can’t believe how human it looks. It looks like a little doll.”

 

“I know,” Arthur said in equal surprise. “I thought it would look like a sea urchin or something.”

 

Gwen tilted her head, looking up with him and stroked his arm affectionately. “You don’t have any sea urchins in your family, do you?”

 

“Not that I know of...”

 

“Then I think we’ll be OK” she said with a smile, “Even if we only have two Cs between us.”

 

 

*

 

Arthur’s mobile went off.

 

He wanted to ignore it at first as he was too content by spooning with Gwen. But the beep kept persisting and persisting. For reasons he had forgotten, it was on the setting that meant it got louder and louder the longer you left it. Worst of all it was on vibrate; so it was moving steadily towards the edge of the bedside table.

 

Suddenly Gwen spun over to grab the nuisance and switch it off. Arthur let out an ‘oof’ sound as she fidgeted on top of him and rolled over to lie on her tummy. She picked up the phone and held it between their faces.

 

“It’s a text,” she told him.

 

He reached up to take it but Gwen moved it out of his reach with a grin and opened the message.

 

Arthur laughed.

 

“You’re invading my privacy,” he joked.

 

“Worried I’ll see the texts from your other girlfriends?” she teased.

 

He sighed and rested his arms behind his head. “The only texts I ever get are from you, Merlin or my sisters.”

 

“Or your mum,” Gwen added. “It’s from Merlin, by the way.”

 

“What does he say?”

 

Gwen climbed off where she had been lying across Arthur’s body and handed the mobile to him. She got up to look at herself in the mirror.

 

“See for yourself,” she told him.

 

Typically the text was in complete gobbledegook as per usual with Merlin. Arthur groaned again as he tried to work out what he was saying: _‘R U @ om? iz gwen @ our plAc? gaius iz :( w her. teL her dat her fl@m8 caLd earlier - wntz 2 knO f sheL b bak 4 T.’_ It took Arthur a while to figure out what his flatmate was on about.

 

“Okay, I think I’ve got it,” he said, sitting up to face where Gwen was standing in front of the mirror. She ran her hands down across her abdomen as he spoke. “He is asking whether you and I are here, that Gaius _frowny face_ with you and that your flatmate called earlier but... I don’t know what the hell she wanted to know...”

 

Gwen sighed. “Does he say which flatmate?”

 

“No, just said ‘flatmate’,” he replied, looking back at the phone. “He says she ‘want-z’ to know ‘f shell’—oh wait, that’s ‘she’ll’ isn’t it? Oh, wait I know now. She wanted to know if you’d be back for dinner.”

 

“Why didn’t she text me?” Gwen asked herself.

 

She picked up her phone from where she had left it on the table. It was switched off. She turned it on and waited for it to show her the time. It was 17:42. She wouldn’t be home for dinner, no. Her phone then buzzed with four missed messages, two of which were each from her housemates; Freya and Vivian. The other two were from Merlin (surprise surprise) and Morgana.

 

Gwen smirked.

 

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

 

“Your sister sent me another joke,” she replied.

 

“Is it the one about all those people going into a pub? She sent me that one too.”

 

It was an old joke but it had been everywhere (on TV, radio and now in text jokes) recently. An Englishman, a Scotsman, an Irishman, a Dutchman, a Frenchman, a gorilla, a horse and two dogs walk into a bar, and the barman says _“Is this a joke?”_ Good old generic stupid jokes!

 

“Aren’t they all?” she remarked to herself, switching to the one sent by Merlin.

 

It simply read _‘U aiight? gaius ways youve Bin msN lectures’. Gwen replied, ‘I’m fine. And I AM at your place. Arthur’s here too.’_ She pressed send and turned back to Arthur. “You don’t need to reply—I did it.”

 

Arthur put the phone down. “Alright, are you going home for dinner?”

 

“No,” she said, before adding, “I wouldn’t miss eating chicken flavoured _Super Noodles_ with you and Merlin for the world.”

 

She looked at the two texts from her flatmates thinking to tell them she wouldn’t be home tonight. They all more or less said the same. _‘Are you in or out tonight?’_ from Freya and simply _‘where r u? you haven’t ben in lesson today.’_ from Vivian – sent ten minutes ago. Gwen replied to both with the same text. It simply read: _‘i’m fine. i’m round A’s tonight. B back tomorrow. i’ll tell you wat’s up then.’_

 

Gwen pressed send and pushed the phone into her pocket. She continued to stroke her abdomen.

 

“I think it’s time to tell people I’m pregnant.”

 

Arthur sat up on the bed.

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“We could have told them after the dating scan,” she told him. “We had the picture to prove it.”

 

Gwen carried the ultrasound picture of the baby in her bag now. She had been so tempted to just off load all the information to someone and anyone. She nearly told her flatmates the other day but managed to stop herself. It took all her power not to phone up her dad or her brother to tell them too. She knew her dad in particular would be excited.

 

“We could tell Merlin when he gets here,” Gwen suggested.

 

Arthur’s eyes widened. “If you want the whole campus finding out, then fine.”

 

“I think we should tell our families too,” she added. “Merlin can be a guinea pig for how we can phrase it. I don’t think he’ll tell anyone if we ask him not to.”

 

“I know but...”

 

“We don’t have to tell him.”

 

“No, I want to. It’s just... well, it’s Merlin. I never thought I’d have to sit him down and tell him we are expecting a baby. Last time I sat him down like this, it was to tell him that _he_ was having a baby.”

 

Gwen laughed at the oddness of what he was saying. “Life throws unexpected things at people.”

 

Her mobile went off with a text from Merlin came back. Gwen looked at it, _‘lol! dun do NEthing i wudn't. c U n a min. - Im on d bus.’_ She put her phone back in her pocket.

 

“He’s nearly home.”

 

“I’ll roll out the red carpet,” Arthur said sarcastically.

 

Gwen smiled and opened her bag to pull out the baby scan. She still couldn’t get over how much like a baby it looked. She walked over to Arthur and lay down against him, back to front and she looked at the picture.

 

“We can show him this,” she said. “I have an overwhelming desire to show people. It’s like this big secret that I want to share with everyone.”

 

“Not like my sister, then,” Arthur muttered. “She used her first scan as a coaster. Merlin has to wipe the tea ring on it.”

 

“What did he do with it after?”  


“You mean you haven’t seen it stuck up around his desk?” Arthur asked, chuckling. Well, he guessed – and hoped – Gwen didn’t have much reason to hang out in Merlin’s bedroom. “The wall behind his desk is basically the evolution of man, but with pictures of Mordred.”

 

It was no secret that Merlin and Mordred had an odd relationship. That collection of pictures Merlin kept was the only proof in the house that he was a father. It was also the best proof that, despite everything, there was a connection there and one Merlin never wanted to let go.

 

“So, Morgana didn’t want the ultrasound back?”

 

“I think at the time she was more upset about losing something to rest her hot chocolates on…”

 

Of course, Morgana loved Mordred more than anything _now_ but her maternal skills were still lacking. It was Ygraine and Hunith who between them had brought Mordred up for the first three years of his life. It was only after that Merlin and Mordred just about pulled their grown-up pants on and tried to be real parents. Even now, though, it always freaked Arthur out to see his nephew and Merlin stand side-by-side. They looked so alike with the same creepy blue eyes that just… stared. Like they could kill you with their minds.  


Arthur had never got over the fact that he was already an “Uncle Arthur”, let alone that his ‘bestest ever buddy’ was “Dad” to that bloody kid!

 

“My mum has asked me and my sisters to come and see her this Easter Sunday,” he suddenly announced, having the women of his family on the brain. “She wanted to know if you would like to come too.”

 

“I wanted to visit my dad tomorrow,” Gwen said slowly. She wrapped his arms around her body, holding his hands at her abdomen and clenching the picture between two fingers. She turned up to look at him and smiled, “But I can certainly come on Sunday. We could make it the weekend of telling parents—and sisters, in your case.”

 

“And your brother,” Arthur added.

 

Gwen just smiled and shrugged, “Yeah, sure. If he’s there, I’ll tell him. Dad probably has a better idea of where he is than I do.”

 

Arthur groaned. “I don’t want to tell _my_ dad...”

 

“He’s going to find out sooner or later.”

 

Uther Pendragon was the chancellor of Pendragon College, which was the oldest college in Camelot and had been founded six hundred years ago by the Pendragon family, hence the same. The family had made all their money on the stock exchange and today the Pendragons sat on over £100 million in Albion alone. Uther was even on the Top 1000 richest Camelonians list. However, that amount didn’t cover the entirety of the family’s full fortune as most of it was crammed into Swiss bank accounts. There was nothing the ‘Pendragon Enterprise’ did not have dibs in these days.

 

But whenever he was asked to state his occupation, Uther said he was a statesman. He has served as Member of Parliament in the House of Commons before he was kicked upstairs to the Round Table. It didn’t diminish his power as people had hoped, though; it increased it.

 

The other day Arthur had seen his father being interviewed by a journalist on ABC – Albion Broadcasting Corporation – over the state of health of the King. It had been eight years since his last re-election and it seemed the Head of State was indeed on his last legs and a new king or queen would have to be found in the event of his death. Some people even suggested Uther himself might be elected should he choose to run. He was definitely the best-known name on the Table.

 

It was a ten-year office and you could be re-elected afterwards, so it was a nice job to have.

 

Nonetheless, as rich as Uther Pendragon with a huge estate, the university college, contacts in the city, his seat at the Round Table and large land ownership it was not enough to keep his wife Ygraine happy all the time.

 

Ygraine had earned the vast majority of her fortune in her own right from being Albion’s favourite softly-spoken TV cook. She had a popular television series, four accompanying books to her name and wrote regularly for the _Sunday Post_ , a newspaper which Uther had bought up several years back.

 

Interestingly the name Ygraine used for all of her work was her maiden name, ‘Ygraine Dubois’, gaining her top points with feminist column writers. The reason for it though was she had begun her career long before she married Uther. In fact, she had been in a long-term relationship with Gorlois Lefay, the editor of the _Sunday Post_ , and with him she had a daughter – Arthur’s eldest sister, Morgause.

 

They had separated amicably when Morgause was three and Gorlois had remarried Vivienne Dulac, who it transpired was _a bit_ of a gold-digger. The marriage was only happy for about six months but they stayed together as Gorlois feared a divorce would fillet him, especially after Morgana was born.

 

Arthur had never known Morgana’s mother as she had died in a tragic skiing accident in Austria a year before he was born. Apparently she had been having an affair with her instructor who cried more at her funeral than Gorlois or even one-year-old Morgana did. Then after Gorlois unfortunately died in a car crash and had requested in his will that Uther and Ygraine become her guardians as he ‘wished for her to grow up alongside her siblings.’

 

The family had always been close – if not at little strained – due to the complex interrelationships they all had. Yet the three had been raised equally and fairly with no preference for one over the other, although Uther’s ambitions were squared solely on Arthur simply because he was his longed-for son. Blood ties and marriage ties had become so complicated that the children themselves had never really been able to tell the difference. Ask Morgana or Morgause and they’d tell you they had one brother and one sister, and ask Arthur he would tell you he had two sisters. Gwen truly admired how close the three of them were – she wished she and Elyan were like that.

 

The complexity of the family ties hurt Gwen’s head a lot when she was first brought into the family fold. Prior to getting together with Arthur all her knowledge about the Pendragons had come from _Life_ magazine.

 

This was the world she was bringing this baby into, one that was worlds away from the simple life she and her brother had enjoyed with their father.

 

“Both of your parents are going to be there,” Gwen said softly after a very long while. “Your father will find out at the same time as your mother will.”

 

Arthur sighed. “I know—it’s just I feel a bit embarrassed about the way he behaved last time you were there. Mother wouldn’t talk to him for three days afterwards, and even when she finally did it was just to tell him she was off to shoot the latest series of her cooking show.”

 

Gwen perked up, losing sight of the subject. “Oh! Is there going to be a new series? That’s good—I saw she had the new book out at the student book shop other day...”

 

“Guine _vere_!” Arthur groaned. “Keep your mind on the point.”

 

She laughed. “I’m sorry. Like I said I’m sure it’ll be fine. We have to tell them sometime. We can’t wait for a couple of years for the baby to tell them.”

 

Then Gwen’s phone went off again. She picked it out of her pocket to look at it.

 

Arthur laughed, “You’re popular tonight.”

 

“It’s just Vivian,” she replied. The text just read, _‘typical! ok c u tomorrow.’_ Gwen put the phone down and kissed Arthur on the lips. “You don’t mind visiting my dad on Saturday, do you? I’m worried I’ve neglected him recently because of... well, _this_.”

 

He kissed her back. “’Course I don’t mind. I like your dad. We can head over to my parents house after that.”

 

Gwen smiled and kissed him again.

 

“I like your mother. I like your sisters too. They were really nice to me last time at my birthday party.”

 

“Nicer than they ever are to me,” Arthur grumbled.

 

“Your nephew is cute too.”

 

“No, he’s not. He’s evil.”

 

“Aw, don’t!” Gwen cooed softly. “He’s adorable, like a mini-Merlin.”

 

“Exactly. Horrible.”

 

“Arthur!”

 

“Aw, I’m only teasing. If anything, Mordred is about the only person in my family I like. He’s never done anything to hurt me… yet, at least.”

 

They both laughed just as they heard the front door go downstairs and Merlin’s voice wafted in through the flat:

 

_“I’m home—hold the applause. My bus was late as usual...”_

 

Arthur smirked and cocked an eyebrow at Gwen.

 

“Speaking of Damien, here comes the Devil.”

 

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. She scrambled off Arthur and pulled him to his feet as well. They could hear Merlin moving around downstairs, heading towards the kitchen. The pair looked at each other, doubly checking that they were both ready and willing to tell their best friend their news. With a small nod from Gwen they opened the bedroom door to the landing and went down to meet him.

 

When they reached the kitchen they found him gulping milk from the carton.

 

Merlin turned around to face them, swallowed and stared. Arthur and Gwen stood silently as if to make confrontation. He put the carton back in the fridge and turned around.

 

Gwen shook her head comically. “Honestly, Merlin. You have a son!”

 

“Sorry,” he said, thinking it was milk they were uptight about. “I didn’t think you’d catch me...”

 

“What?” Arthur said confused, then realised, and went on, “No – although you are definitely buying a new carton first thing tomorrow. I’m not having your spit in my cereal.”

 

The dark-haired man rolled his eyes and nodded.

 

“Okay, okay. So, out with it! What have I done?” Merlin asked humorously.

 

“Nothing,” both Arthur and Gwen said in chorus. They stopped and smiled. It was odd how nervous they were about this. After all it was only Merlin. He’d been at this point before himself. He really was the ideal person to break this news to.

 

“We have something important to tell you,” Gwen finally added. “You’ll be the first person we’ve told, if fact.”

 

Merlin’s eyes widened and he turned to Arthur. “Are you… moving in together?”

 

“No,” Arthur said quickly, before looking down and up again. “At least not yet but... things are definitely going to change.”

 

That seemed to worry Merlin.

 

He turned back to Gwen. “What is it?”

 

Gwen bit her lip with anticipation. She was surprisingly excited about tell someone finally about her current state yet she still found it hard to get it out. It was like she wanted to delay the moment just a little bit more and keep Merlin hanging. She thought she would want to hide away the truth from everyone and be ashamed, but she wasn’t. The longer time went on the better she felt about her current ‘state’.

 

“I’m going to have a baby,” she finally announced.

 

Merlin stared at both of them again, not quite believing what he had heard. OK – he knew from hearing them in the next room they had been very sexually active over the last few months what with all the birthdays, parties and celebrations... but it was still a shock. Unable to think of anything else, he wondered just how pregnant she was.

 

“How far are you gone?”

 

Gwen finally had a chance to present the picture. Merlin took it and looked at it. He was still in shock.

 

“Wow,” he finally managed to muster, “it doesn’t have a chocolate ring on it—when did you have this done?”

 

“Just over a week ago,” she replied.

 

Merlin looked down at her tummy. “You’re not showing yet.”

 

Gwen rubbed her stomach. “I can tell it’s there.”

 

“So can I,” Arthur added without thinking.

 

Merlin laughed for the first time since he had got in. “I bet you can— _wait a minute_!” he stopped and pointed at Arthur accusingly. “If you aren’t planning on moving out, where’s this baby going to go?”

 

Arthur and Gwen looked at each other.

 

“We haven’t discussed our living plans yet,” Gwen confessed.

 

“Well, you should,” Merlin said seriously. “I mean, before you know it that baby is going to be here and what—are you still going to be living with the girls?”

 

Gwen hadn’t really thought about that and was ashamed to admit so. She wasn’t exactly _best_ friends with either of her flatmates –they lived in a house but still called each other ‘flatmates’—so leaving them wouldn’t be too much of a problem... but where would she go after that? In her mind, she hoped to be living elsewhere with Arthur by the time the baby came. It would be unfair to Freya and Vivian if she stayed especially since she didn’t know how they’d react when she finally told them – but where would she live if she did move out?

 

Arthur noticed the worry in Gwen’s eye.

 

He turned an accusing eye to Merlin.

 

“The least you can do is say ‘congratulations’, Merlin.”

 

“You didn’t say it to me.”

 

“ _Yes I did_ ,” Arthur replied cynically, “Albeit sarcastically… and just after I had punched you.”

 

True story – he nearly broke Merlin’s nose. Nonetheless, Merlin realised very quickly that he had screwed up. So, he overstated his joy for his two friends and beamed happily as he turned back to Gwen.

 

“Congratulations, Gwen!”

 

Gwen just gave him a nervous smile.

 

“Thanks, Merlin.”

 

“And, hey! If you two need any parent-to-be coping tips, you know where I am.”

 

Arthur could have uttered one of many sarcastic remarks at that moment but he managed to stop himself. Truth was, he suspected he would be holding him to that promise.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur and Gwen were on the train to see Gwen’s family. Well, her dad anyway. There was no certainty that Elyan would be there. He had been studying metalwork at City Camelot, a sister college to Pendragon, but whether he was still there or had paused his course (again) or dropped out Gwen didn’t know. No one could be quite sure when it came to Gwen’s cheeky little brother, Elyan. He was harder to nail down than a puff of smoke.

 

He shared a flat with a guy named Percival, who they had been friends with since secondary school, who was twice his size and strength and thus did well for himself working in the construction industry. There was also a third guy in their house-share back then. Originally, it had been Gwen’s ex-boyfriend, Lancelot. After they broke up, he felt that too awkward to keep living with her younger brother and so he had wandered off to ‘find himself’… or at least find somewhere of his own. The last thing Arthur and Gwen had heard about him had been a few months ago. Apparently, he had moved into shared accommodation with a load of frog-suckers at Gawent College of Technology. Legend had it that one of his flat mates, Elena, had accidently swallowed a frog trying to get a high off it!

 

In Lancelot’s place, Elyan had managed to find a new flat mate who just happened to be Arthur’s maternal cousin and fellow drifter-through-life, Gwaine.

 

Ding-dong.

 

_‘This station is Ascetir Forrest. Change here for Triskele line services. This is a Swordsmiths and City line train to at Engerd.’_

 

“Just three more stops, right?” Arthur asked.

 

Gwen nodded, “We should be there in fifteen minutes.”

 

Gwen looked up at the line map above the windows in the carriage. Just a few more stops.

_Not long now_ , she thought to herself.

 

“Doesn’t your nephew go here?”

 

“What the station?”

 

“No! Well, probably but no. I mean he attends Ascetir Forrest Infants’ School, right?”

 

“I think so,” Arthur mumbled. “Mum and Hunith picked the school.”

 

Ygraine, the self-appointed Mother Hen of the Pendragon family, maintained a close and friendly contact with Merlin’s mother Hunith. They had got to know each other during Morgana’s pregnancy as they discussed what would be best for their children and the child in question. The result of the seven-and-a-half months was a close friendship as they began to talk about themselves and not just the impending birth.

 

Due to Merlin and Morgana’s initial lack of desire to either look after the baby themselves or even share the responsibility between them, it fell to Ygraine and Hunith to work out what needed to be done.

 

It was then that they decided that Mordred would spend Ostara and Christmas with each family interchangeably. If it had been up to Ygraine she would have invited the family to come together for both but there were two problems; the first was Merlin and Morgana’s chilly relationship, and the second was Uther’s unwillingness to sit on the same level as the Ambros family.

 

“All I know is that he goes to a pretty exclusive religious school,” he continued. “Proper ‘Praise Emrys!’ and all that. Why? Already thinking of where to send our kid? Because I’d prefer something more secular…”

 

“Don’t be silly, we don’t even know where we’ll be living in six years’ time.”

 

“So, why?”

 

Gwen smirked, “No reason. I tripped over his book bag in the hall this morning and it just suddenly came to mind Mordred’s school must be here.”

 

Arthur rolled his eyes.

 

“Honestly, I am dreading what the state of the house will be like after we get home from Ostara Weekend with those two being left to their own devices.”

 

She chuckled and looked back at the underground map. The journey had been smoothing riding. It was one of those rare occasions where there were no ‘planned improvements’ going on otherwise they would have had to get the replacement bus service. Yet, there was a part of her that wished the journey had been longer. Maybe then she would have a better idea of how she was going to put things to her father.

 

Arthur took Gwen’s hand and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.

 

“It’ll be okay,” he assured her. “I promise.”

 

She simply hummed her reply.

 

The train pulled into the neat, unassuming station with many people waiting and nearly all of them parents with children – in buggies or held by hand – each one taking advantage of the Diamond Friday Holiday.

 

_‘This station is Ascetir Forrest. Change here for Triskele line services. This is a Swordsmiths and City line train to at Engerd.’_

 

As a group of people piled into the carriage, Arthur stood so that a little blond boy could sit down. The father of the boy thanked him and then beckoned his son to do the same. His tiny little voice complied with a soft “Thank you.” Gwen smiled; the little boy only about five-years-old, the same age as little Mordred. Maybe they were even class mates? He gave her a shy smile before looking up at his father, who began to make light conversation with him, much like how Gwen had seen Merlin and Morgana do with their son.

 

Her chest tightened. It was like a flash-forward for her.

 

Gwen looked up to Arthur and he leaned in as she whispered, “I wish telling Freya and Vivian I was pregnant had gone better. They were really shocked.”

 

He sighed.

 

“You had to tell them sometime.”

 

They had both been surprised given that they had always put Gwen down as someone that would never fall into such a trap. Once they had stopped staring at Gwen with their mouths open they both turned to Arthur with accusatory looks. It had been Vivian who broke the silence by pointing an reproving finger in his direction and saying:

 

 _“And_ you _did this to her? Prick! You ruined her life!”_

It had been a brilliant way to put a downer on something that Gwen was finally starting to feel happy about, maybe even a little excited. Then again, Vivian could be a stuck-up little twit sometimes. She was too dedicated to her studies to worry about having a boyfriend – or girlfriend – of her own _and_ it paid off too for she was _always_ gloating about getting Firsts on her essays. So, Gwen was dreaming if she thought she was going to get any sympathy from her.

 

Thankfully, Freya was considerably more supportive despite being just as shocked. She was Merlin’s ex-girlfriend having broken up with him only quite recently. Despite the break up, Gwen had managed to stay friends with Freya and Merlin.

 

 _“She’s used to handling a kid,”_ Arthur had said, the punchline being so obvious Gwen pre-emptively groaned, _“Mordred, too.”_

 

Freya didn’t laugh at that ‘joke’, though. Despite having a pretty good, stable and happy relationship with Merlin for a while, there had always been an underlying tension between them. It was the same nail in the coffin that had affected every relationship Merlin ever attempted to have with a woman – a little thorn called Mordred. Whether it was through instruction from Morgana or just his own possessiveness over his father, that little boy usually made it his mission in life to be as creepy, unreadable and devious as he could be with Merlin’s girlfriends while having the sweetest, cutest and more adorable personalities with everyone else.

 

 _“He was like the twins at the end of ‘The Parent Trap’ rolled into one compact child,”_ Freya had confided to Gwen once the relationship was over.

 

Gwen couldn’t quite believe it. Even though Arthur’s nickname for Mordred was ‘Damien’ it was just his brand of humour and part of a narrative he had had going since the kid was conceived, complete with Morgana as Rosemary and Merlin as Satan incarnate.

 

 _“He’s such a sweet little boy,”_ was all Gwen could counter with.

 

Freya sighed, _“He is sweet. Maybe he’s only doing it because of Morgana but… I don’t know? The idea that little boy doesn’t even know he’s doing it makes him even creepier.”_

 

Listening to Freya say all that made Gwen worry about what people might say about _her_ child. She imagined that if Morgana heard what Freya had said, she would have lamped her.

 

“I just hope my dad takes it well.”

 

She thought she would be glad to finally tell her dad the truth but after the way Merlin, Freya and Vivian had all reacted, she was worried.

 

Arthur took her hand again and squeezed it.

 

“Come on, you were looking forward to this the other day,” he said quietly.

 

“Yes, because I haven’t seen my dad for a few weeks,” Gwen replied softly. “I’m just dreading what he’ll say when I tell him _this_.”

 

“He isn’t exactly old fashioned.”

 

“I don’t mean like that.”

 

She leaned closer to Arthur so that the father and the little boy couldn’t hear. The father looked away, sensing his presence was getting in their way and the little boy adorably copied him.

 

“My dad has always boasted about how sensible I am. I’m worried he’ll be disappointed to find out I’m pregnant.”

 

Arthur felt bad. Everyone seemed to react to the news like it was his fault, as if he had done something terrible to Gwen. He hoped that Tom would understand and be supportive as he knew he couldn’t rely on _his_ father to do so. Whether Tom would be pleased that of all the people in the City of Camelot to impregnate his daughter, it had to be Uther Pendragon’s son was a completely different kettle of fish.

 

“He’ll probably be more flustered at the fact _I’m_ the father,” Arthur whispered back, trying to make her smile.

 

She did.

 

“My dad likes you, despite who your father is, and so does my brother.”

 

One of Uther’s governmental responsibilities apart from sitting at the Round Table was to oversee several districts within Camelot, one of which was Middle-South Quarter. In his elitist way, Uther often dismissed the concerns of the locals by joking to the other table ministers: _“The people who live in Middle-South Quarter were Scrying Glass readers, so they are not exactly the sharpest tools in business.”_ Gwen’s home estate was an area of small businesses and generally working class people, so they were not big fans multimillionaire Uther who put out compulsory purchase orders on the land their homes and businesses were built on – and Arthur agreed with them.

 

Thankfully there was no hostility toward Arthur himself though he feared that could change any day now, especially since Uther wanted Arthur to take over the family business once he left university. If Uther was seriously considering running for King should the current one kick the bucket within the year, he would need Arthur to take care of the responsibilities he could not handle.

 

 _“What you need is to win over the people of Middle-South Quarter_!” Arthur had argued when this proposition was first put to him.

 

 _“I fear you are right,”_ Uther had nodded, coldly calculating his next move. _“Make sure you bring your girlfriend to our next social event. It would be_ lovely _to see her again.”_

 

That was the moment he realised why his father tolerated his choice of Gwen as a girlfriend: she was a potential vote-winner.

 

Finally, the train reached its destination:

 

_‘This is station is Middle Quarter...’_

 

It was just a short ten minutes walk to Gwen’s father’s house. Since their mother had died of cancer when they were young, Tom was alone now she and Elyan had packed up and gone to university. Gwen worried about her father when she wasn’t there but he never got lonely. He was very popular with the neighbours.

 

As they reached the front door there was a note posted on it:

 

_‘I’m at the workshop. Dump your bags inside and make yourselves at home! – Dad’_

 

Gwen opened the door with her own key. Just before Arthur stepped through the door he caught sight of a sign in the window of a house across the street. It simply read _‘Pendragon: Out!’_ At least it was politer than the white bedsheet that they saw pined up on the street railing near the station, which had read: _‘F^£# YOU, PENDRAGON!’_

 

He sighed and went inside.

 

The house was filled with clutter. Gwen noticed a car motor on the kitchen table. She groaned, placed her bag in the hallway and hoped as she approached it that Tom hadn’t got oil all over the place. Thankfully there was newspaper down.

 

“I’ll put the kettle on,” she muttered to Arthur as he came in behind her. “It’s nearly lunch time so he’ll be back soon. You can sit down.”

 

He looked around the living room which was open-floor to the kitchen and dining room. The stairs were almost directly in front of the door, up which there were three bedrooms and a bathroom. When they stayed over Arthur usually crashed on the pull-out sofa, seeing Elyan’s room remained a dusty mess – “unfit for habitation” as Tom joked – just as he left it three years ago. Tom had never been so naive to assume that his daughter hadn’t bedded the young Pendragon at some point but Arthur had too much respect for him to presume to sleep anywhere other than down in the living room.

 

Gwen handed Arthur his tea and sat down on the plush sofa beside him.

 

“I’m sorry about the mess.”

 

She put her own mug down on the coffee table. It was covered in papers, magazines and the TV controllers.

 

“How do you think we should tell him?”

 

She turned to Arthur.

 

“Well... do you want to tell him straight away or tell him over tea?”

 

“I just want to get it over with.”

 

“Fine, then we’ll tell him as soon as he gets in.”

 

As if answering a cue, they heard the keys jangle in the lock and, as sure as Gwen’s word had been, Tom stumbled in through the door with his toolbox in one hand and his keys in the other. He also had that day’s newspaper tucked under his arm. The _Scrying Glass_ , of course. He didn’t notice Arthur and Gwen sitting on the sofa and called blindly into the house to check whether they were there.

 

“Gwen, have you arrived yet?”

 

The pair stood up and smiled.

 

“Hello, Dad,” Gwen said sweetly.

 

Tom spun around, surprised. Bursting into a bright beam, he immediately pulled her in for a hug. It had been a while since they had seen each other face to face although they had spoken on the phone. Tom had noticed the worry and distraction in Gwen’s voice last time she had called him. He had been concerned.

 

“Are you alright?” he immediately asked her.

 

“I’m fine,” Gwen said distantly.

 

She pulled away from the hug and smile, “Just, you know, a lot of stuff going on.”

 

“Well, at least you keep in contact,” Tom said with a sigh. “I haven’t heard from Elyan in... over a month.”

 

Gwen’s eyes widened. _A month?!_

“God, even I heard from him more recently than that,” Arthur joked. “Gwaine said they were on their way to gig a fortnight ago.”

 

“You know what Elyan is like,” Gwen shrugged all while thinking she would have to go and see him. She then made a vain attempt to joke with her father. “I sent him a text last week and he gave me a short reply, so he’s definitely still alive...”

 

“That’s reassuring.”

 

Tom turned to Arthur and gave him a pat on the shoulder.

 

“Good to see you too, Arthur. I hope the neighbours showed a bit better manners than last time.”

 

“I don’t mind it.”

 

It was his father getting mouthed about, not him. Besides Uther couldn’t expect any less from the people whose lives he could not begin to imagine.

 

“Um, Dad,” Gwen began. “We have something to... tell you.”

 

Arthur felt his heart skip.

 

 _She’s going to tell him_ now _!_

 

Anxiously, he wrapped his arm around her.

 

Tom’s eyes widened.

 

“You’re not getting married, are you?”

 

Both of them blushed. Arthur rather guiltily looked away from them both. In this whole business about the baby he had been too shy to ask Gwen if she _wanted_ them to get married, too terrified to ask in case she said no.

 

Gwen twiddled with a twirl of her hair.

 

“Um, not quite...”

 

“So, you’re moving in together?”

 

“Well,” Gwen nodded slowly, trying to force herself to say the actual words. “Quite possibly we will over the next few months... but that’s not the thing.”

 

Tom laughed.

 

“Tell me sweetheart. I’m on tenterhooks.”

 

Gwen bit her lip and took another keep breath. She smiled bravely and hugged herself to Arthur even tighter, as if he were the only thing holding her up.

 

“Dad,” she began slowly, before pausing again and finally saying it, “I’m going to have a baby.”

 

Tom covered his mouth with his hand.

 

Arthur scowled. It was covered in car oil marks - not good!

 

His reaction made their hearts sink a little. Arthur found himself having a flashback to when he was sixteen and Morgana told the family she was pregnant. Uther had hit the roof; he even threatened death on the man who had done it, and was surprisingly underwhelmed when she told them who the father was.

 

 _“Merlin,”_ he had repeated in disbelief. _“That lanky lad Arthur keeps bringing here...?”_

 

Then had followed a long silence before Ygraine had said, with a begrudgingly amused smile, what they were all thinking: _“I’m… almost impressed.”_

 

Tom was an optimistic person but Arthur wouldn’t blame him if he lost his ever long and lasting temper at that moment for ruining his little girl’s life by _impregnating_ her. With a Pendragon, no less.

 

But then his hand moved to reveal a small pleased but uncertain smile. He gestured towards Gwen’s abdomen.

 

“And you’re keeping it?”

 

“Yes, we talked about it,” Gwen nodded slowly. She then reached into her pocket and handed him the ultrasound photo. “I had that done just over a week ago.”

 

“The doctor’s name was ‘Dr. _Pervis_ ’,” Arthur added, trying to lighten the mood.

 

Gwen rolled her eyes.

 

“Will you just let the name _go_?”

 

“I’ll _never_ let it go,” he chucked, keeping his attention on Tom as he looked at the picture. “In six years time when our kid is about five and starting school, I’ll tell them about it. I’ll be telling _its_ kids!”

 

“I can barely believe it,” Tom muttered quietly.

 

He looked up from the picture.

 

“His name was _Pervis_ …?”

 

Arthur laughed, relieved.

 

“Dad!” Gwen scolded.

 

“I’m joking!” the father smirked. He exchanged a smiling-look with Arthur as handed the picture back to Gwen. “Well, it feels a little daunting finding becoming a grandfather when you’re a young and active guy like me, but I hope you know I’m here for you.”

 

There was a long pause before he hugged Gwen again. She was just relieved he wasn’t more disappointed or shocked, more concerned about what it would mean for his daughter.

 

He turned to Arthur and patted his shoulder again.

 

He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, “ _Pervis_ , really?”

 

_“Really!”_

 

Gwen rolled her eyes, “ _You two_!”

 

 

*

 

 

It was Ostara Sunday and as could be expected Arthur’s mother was doing all the cooking. Ygraine Dubois always liked to create a wonderful spread for the family to eat as it gave her inspiration for new recipes. It irritated her husband to no end who wished she wouldn’t make so much food.

 

“It’s like you’re fattening us up as pigs for slaughter,” he grumbled as he watched her working away in the kitchen. “You’ve been in there since eight this morning.”

 

Ygraine dropped her spoon and folded her arms.

 

“Why can’t you _ever_ be more supportive? I _always_ play hostess to your damned ‘business associates’ and political allies and lobbyists, not to mention those other shindigs you _insist_ on staging here. I think our own family deserves at least as much effort, Uther. Or maybe you’d prefer it if we just went down the local Indian restaurant and got them a takeaway curry!?”

 

Uther chuckled nervously.

 

“I wasn’t looking for a fight. Don’t be like that...”

 

He stood up straight and folded his own arms.

 

“I’m just saying there is an awful lot of food for only a handful of people. There are you, me, the girls, Arthur and that girlfriend of his. That’s only six people, Ygraine.”

 

Ygraine scoffed, and picked up the spoon again.

 

“Everyone has specific tastes. I was just going to do duck but Arthur said that poultry made Gwen sick...”

 

Uther rolled his eyes.

 

“Typical—I don’t see why you should have to accommodate for _her_.”

 

“Leave her be, Uther,” Ygraine said firmly, pointing the spoon at him in an accusatory manner. “She’s a nice girl so I want you to be nice to her. You should be happy our son found himself such a level-headed girl. Oh, and that reminds me: the girls are not far away now. I got a call from Morgana about fifteen minutes ago.”

 

Uther nodded, looking up at the ceiling – Arthur’s room was just above their heads.

 

Ygraine rolled her eyes, knowing what he was thinking.

 

“They’ll come down when the girls get here.”

 

“Indeed,” he grumbled before pointing upward towards the ceiling. “Just like New Year’s holiday. Disgraceful. The maid had to change the sheets of nearly every bed in the house and I had to pay overtime. Bit by bit it seems my son is losing respectability...”

 

“Hmm,” Ygraine muttered quietly. “She didn’t have to change the sheets on either of our beds...”

 

“What?”

 

“They’re young,” Ygraine said, deciding not to repeat her former remark. “And they were bored. What did you expect them to do? Sit around the coffee table and play a nice game of _Kerplunk_ ™?”

 

She chuckled at her own witticism.

 

“Yes, and remember what happened the last time Morgana got ‘bored’…” Uther muttered.

 

Ygarine felt her temper rise again. She purposely slammed a bowl to try and vent her bottled-up rage. The bang startled Uther out of his angry scowl at the ceiling and he looked back to his wife.

 

“It’s not just her,” she said calmly back. “You know that Morgana is still refusing to eat any type of poultry in protest against intensive farm chickens.”

 

“If she cares that much she can buy free range…”

 

“There is you too. The doctor said you needed to cut down on red meat...”

 

She pointed in one of her ovens.

 

“So that is duck for me, Arthur and Morgause,” Ygraine explained. “Lamb for Morgana and Gwen, and...” she folded her arms and glared at him, “a chicken for you. Do you have any other questions?”

 

Uther glared at her.

 

“You’re _never_ going to let that chicken thing go, are you?”

 

 

*

 

 

As the argument went on in the kitchen, Arthur and Gwen sat upstairs in his bedroom trying to decide how they were going to break the news of her pregnancy to his parents.

 

The moment they came through the door Arthur could tell his parents were in the middle of yet another argument. It always felt him with a sickly unpleasant feeling in his stomach. It had been a nightmare over New Year, especially being snowed into the house. No one could get back into the city so they had been stuck listening to Uther rattle on about how much money the company was losing and driving his wife further up the wall.

 

Their son was not so naive to realise that the magic from his parents’ marriage was officially dead. It was partly the reason for his fear of asking Gwen if she wanted to get married, the fear that in twenty five years at their Silver Wedding Anniversary they’d spend the whole time at the back of the garden arguing in full view of all the guests, miss the speeches and embarrass their children.

 

Needless to say Arthur was quick to usher his girlfriend out of harm’s way as soon as he sensed the tension was ripe. He told himself they would go downstairs when his sisters arrived. At least then the attention wouldn’t be on them.

 

Of all the people Arthur feared telling his father the most; he was close to his mother (They were more alike than people would guess) and while his sisters could be hard on him he didn’t fear their reactions nearly as much as he did Uther’s. His father was a frightening man.

 

“I think we should tell them over dinner,” Arthur concluded after a long think. “My father is always in a better mood after he’s had a few drinks and he’s less likely to kick off with my mother and sisters there watching.”

 

Gwen nodded, knowing that Arthur knew best.

 

She sat up on the bed they were lying on and looked down at him. “You don’t think this is rude, sitting up here while your parents are downstairs?”

 

Arthur sat up too, “Um, no?”

 

“It’s not what we did last time we were here,” Gwen said.

 

He tilted his head. “Last time we were here we spent most of the time making out or... doing the _other thing_.”

 

“Alright I take your point,” Gwen nodded. “But we didn’t just sit in here, worrying.”

 

“We didn’t have anything to worry about.” Arthur was feeling irritated, realising how much the suspense was getting to him. “Why are you so keen to spend time with my parents? My dad is grumpy and my mother is always… cooking. I love my parents, I do but—there are times when I can’t wait to get away from them.”

 

“It’s just... when I visit the family we actually spend time together.”

 

“That sounds nice. You know as well as I do that my family is far from domestic bliss, _especially_ at family gatherings. Morgause always keeps Mother to herself, Morgana gets drunk and my dad is _always_ moaning.”

 

“Still I think they’d appreciate it if we went downstairs and talked to them,” Gwen suggested naively. “You know... buttered them up before we drop the bombshell on them at dinner?”

 

There was a murmur from outside the bedroom window that got louder and louder. Gwen got up from the bed and looked out the window that overlooked the back garden. It was more accurately twenty acres of grass land with a small flower garden just at the side of the house.

 

Gwen remembered how Arthur told her that when he was a kid they used to have pet chickens on the estate. Then one Ostara, Uther sent the chickens away and told the children they had gone to ‘live on a farm’, which _was_ true as they lived on a farm for about 48 hours before they were culled.

 

Morgause, too old and clever to be deceived with that old story, told her siblings the truth. Arthur admitted that he _might_ have cried, with a strong emphasis on the _might_. He had been comforted by his mother and Morgause while Morgana went on about ‘Fowl Rights’.

 

“I think your sisters are here,” Gwen said, calling him to the window.

 

He dragged himself off his feet and looked out the window. On the large field at the back of the house a helicopter touched down on ground. The already dead blossom blew against the window as two figures hopped out of side door and onto the grass. The two women looked up at Arthur’s window, noticed the couple and waved. Their pair waved back.

 

“Get them to turn that damned thing off!” they could hear Uther shouting from the patio door.

 

Arthur sighed, “Well, I suppose we should go down now and say hi to them.”

 

He turned around to see Gwen looking at his phone again. He had put it on silent earlier so that they wouldn’t be disturbed as they talked about the important thing.

 

“Invading my privacy again?” he chuckled.

 

She handed it to him. “It’s a ‘Happy Ostara’ text from Merlin.”

 

“Oh joy!” he said sarcastically and he opened it. “What wise words from the prodigal friend?” The text read in his usual cryptic way: _‘:-) Ostara! hOp evrtng goes k. M & I R bored & eating lots of chocl@ 4 T. Havn't told him bout G, dw!’_

 

Arthur didn’t have the motivation to decode it so he simply texted back:

 

_‘In plain Albish, Merlin! No lingo!’_

 

He hit the send button harshly and then threw the mobile down on the bed.

 

“Come on then before they come looking for us.”

 

Gwen nodded. “Arthur before we do—“

 

“Yes?”

 

“Your dad...” she said quietly. “He’s not in a bad mood because I’m here, is he?”

 

He gave her a small smile and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.

 

“Nah, my dad has always been a grumpy old sod since I was a kid.”

 

Gwen bit her lip and nodded, allowing him to lead her downstairs.

 

There was once a time when one only ever heard about the Pendragons in the newspaper or on TV. Never in her life did Gwen think she would be on talking terms with one of them let alone fall in love and get impregnated by one. She realised through Arthur that the seemingly perfect family that would sometimes pop up in his mother’s cooking shows or in her news column was all just a myth. Frankly she was surprised Arthur hadn’t needed counselling after he told her the chicken story.

 

Arthur’s phone buzzed again.

 

It was Merlin but this time there was no message, just a picture of Merlin and Mordred squeezed into the frame with the same humourous, quizzical expression and holding a piece of sugar paper between them with the words ‘HAPPY OSTARA FROM M’n’M!’ squalled out on it.

 

“Aww, so cute!” Gwen cooed.

 

“Yeah, and funny, too,” Arthur mumbled drolly. “I thought Ostara would be a day of mourning for those two. I mean, it _is_ the day our Great Emrys rose escaped the cave and defeated the Devil and his minions, right?”

 

Gwen groaned.

 

 

*

 

 

A few hours later and Ygraine had finally placed everything on the table and everyone gathered around together to sample the culinary delights she had offered up. Gwen remembered the New Year’s dinner had looked a feast from Homer’s _Odyssey_. The Ostara dinner was no exception.

 

“Quite a spread you’ve put on,” Morgause said with a smile, hugging Ygraine and kissing her on the cheek, “You always work so hard for us.”

 

“I hope we didn’t _disturb_ you both,” Morgana whispered to Gwen with a suggestive eyebrow.

 

Arthur scratched the back of his neck with embarrassment. She knew all about the bad behaviour her brother and his girlfriend had got up to over the New Year period.

 

Morgana smirked.

 

“The helicopter always makes _such_ a noise.”

 

Gwen smiled calmly, “No, we were just talking.”

 

“I’m sorry about the blossom,” Morgause told Ygraine.

 

“That’s fine. It was already all gone—your father blew the lot off when _he_ landed here yesterday.”

 

Gwen leaned closer to Arthur. “Your dad came by a helicopter too?”

 

“Nah, it’s the same one,” Arthur replied. “We’re not _that_ flash.”

 

Gwen nodded. She would have thought having the one helicopter was flash but then she didn’t run in millionaire circles. The conversations they had were the sort of things she would see in sketch shows on TV only instead of watching the things they talked about with irony she was expected to take them seriously. At least when Uther was there she was. Gwen was glad that her boyfriend, and to some extent his sisters (and even their mother) seemed to understand the irony.

 

“I set the table up to suit everyone,” Ygraine said cheerfully.

 

Uther rolled his eyes yet again.

 

He sat at one end of the table and Ygraine the other, while the sisters sat to one side and Arthur and Gwen to the other. Arthur made sure that Gwen had the seat closet to his mother rather than his father so that he could provide a barrier between her and Uther’s cold stares.

 

Once everyone was sat at the table the passing of plates and the pouring out of alcohol began. When it came to filling Gwen’s glass she politely declined.

 

“No thank you. I’m not drinking at the moment,” she said with a polite smile. “Is it alright if I just have some water?”

 

Ygraine took her glass and nodded.

 

“Of course,” she said brightly. “Are you sure you just want water? I can make six kinds of juices...” before briefly saying under her breath, “Maybe I should have thought of that...?”

 

“Oh I don’t want to be any trouble!” Gwen said quickly, not wanting to cause a fuss. There was a tiny snort from Uther that was just audible. Ygraine briefly turned her cool blue eyes on him before she looked back to Gwen as she finished. “A glass of water will suit me perfectly, thank you.”

 

“Do you want ice?” she then asked. “Tap water or mineral water?”

 

“Um, I don’t mind—”

 

“Oh!” the older woman suddenly thought, “I could some lemon in it. You know, I _always_ think—”

 

“Emrys, save us!” Uther suddenly erupted. “It’s a _glass of water_ not the Spanish Inquisition.”

 

There was an awkward pause. Ygraine stared down the table at Uther with a hurt and embarrassed look. _Did he really need to lose his temper like that in front of a guest?_ She had only been trying to be nice, a lot more than her husband ever bothered to be. If it wasn’t a business associate he seemed to be on a mission to be as discourteous as humanly possible.

 

Morgause slipped the glass from Ygraine’s fingers.

 

“I’ll get the water,” she whispered.

 

She disappeared into the kitchen as Uther picked up his wine glass. “Where on earth has the maid been for the past three days?”

 

Morgana looked at him as if he was stupid. “It is Ostara, you know.”

 

Uther thought for a moment and gulped some white wine.

 

“Yes, of course,” he muttered.

 

He took another swig as Morgause returned with Gwen’s glass of water. She smiled as she handed it over. “It’s mineral water.”

 

“Thank you,” Gwen said, returning the smile.

 

“Morgause,” Uther addressed the eldest. “You’ll know this...”

 

As he spoke Ygraine stood again and muttered, quietly. “I’ll start carving then...”

 

“Does our maid actually celebrate Ostara, or is it just a day off for her?”

 

“She _is_ a Druid,” Morgause said distractedly, helping Ygraine. “I imagine she takes it more seriously than most of us here. It is a secular holiday to us but to her it is both the spiritual coming of Spring and the celebration of Emrys’s escape from the Cave of Diamonds.”

 

She handed the plate of chicken back Uther.

 

“Well, you two,” indicating his two adopted daughters, “certainly aren’t, what with all this Wicca nonsense you follow.”

 

“It’s not _nonsense_ ,” Morgana retorted.

 

“I think it’s all very spiritual,” Ygraine said, trying to be peacekeeper.

 

“Our friend Merlin is like that,” Gwen quickly jumped in as well.

 

She was worried that if she didn’t talk now she would be lost from the conversation forever. Plus, she wanted to be at peace with everyone before she and Arthur announced the coming of a new addition to the family.

 

“I mean he’s very... spiritual.”

 

Uther snorted again.

 

“Gods’ sake, so _this_ is the environment my grandson is being dragged up in?”

 

Morgana’s eyes narrowed.

 

“What do you mean by _that_?”

 

“All this ‘spiritual’ la-de-da, dance around a camp fire at Stonehenge rubbish,” Uther bluntly replied. There was a genuine fire in his eyes. “Did the Kings of Mythical times burn all those witches for nothing? All religion does is spread paranoia and evil intentions, and all that nonsense about magic and spells… it is just utter garbage.”

 

Morgause cleared her throat calmly, her eyes cold as stone.

 

“Regardless of what people here think of the Old Ways, Wicca or Druidism,” she said softly, glancing at Morgana and Uther before she continued, “Merlin, Morgana and myself are entitled to do as we please with our lives, provided no one gets hurt.”

 

Uther picked up a large glass of wine and took a great gulp.

 

“That is precisely what I worry about.”

 

“Yes, but then _everything_ I do is inappropriate as far as you’re concerned, right ‘ _Dad’_?” Morgana snapped spitefully, as if only the two of them were talking, leaving the rest of the table feeling isolated. It was like watching a car crash happen in slow motion.

 

The older man pursed his lips.

 

“I worry my grandson will be brought up with a warped view of the world.”

 

Morgana decided to wedge the knife in further.

 

“He’s not your _real_ grandson.”

 

That touched a nerve as, for a moment, Uther looked genuinely hurt.

 

Morgause nudged her sister with her elbow, “Morgana.”

 

The younger woman looked from Uther to her sister with a scowl. Then, she saw Ygraine’s discomfort. Clearly those words had touched a nerve with her too. Immediately, Morgana felt awful. She dared not meet Arthur or Gwen’s eyes, though if she did, she would have seen how equally uncomfortable they were.

 

Her brother had even buried his face in his hand.

 

She looked back to Ygraine, expression contorted in guilt.

 

“I-I’m sorry, Mum. I shouldn’t have said—”

 

Ygraine nodded slowly, “It’s alright, Morgana. Let’s just try to enjoy dinner for now, shall we?”

 

Everyone nodded in wordless agreement and picked up their cutlery, ready to tuck into the portions Ygraine and Morgause were kindly handing out to everyone.

 

Morgana tugged on Gwen’s sleeve.

 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m bringing out the worst in my whole family tonight.”

 

Gwen just smiled, trying to mask her awkwardness. She had a feeling Morgana’s outburst would be the least memorable thing to happen at this dinner.

 

Uther turned to his son, trying to distract himself from what had just happened.

 

“I hope that Merlin hasn’t sucked you into this ‘cult’ thinking, Arthur,” he muttered quietly, trying not to engage in the argument with Morgana again.

 

Arthur, who had been slowly dying of embarrassment up until this point, looked up and smiled. “I’m pretty much like you, Dad. Secular to the core.”

 

Uther turned his cold glare at Gwen.

 

“What about you?”

 

She smiled nervously. “Me? Well, to me Ostara is the day of staying in, eating chocolate eggs and watching cheesy films.”

 

“I thought that was just Friday Night?” Arthur said jokily.

 

It had been another attempt to lighten the mood. Ygraine chuckled but Uther just grunted in mild approval.

 

When the food was carved up and dished out Arthur tried to avoid anything smelling vaguely like poultry getting to Gwen. She discreetly tried to hide her discomfort behind her hand whenever she caught a whiff of the usually delectable scent of meat. She leaned back in her chair and tried to take her mind off it. The smell still made her feel queasy, but if she could just endure a little while longer…

 

Her nauseous expression did not escape Uther.

 

“What’s wrong?” he queried, glassy eyes staring down the table at Gwen. Of course, he had to notice! “You look a little put off.”

 

“Gwen doesn’t like the smell of duck,” Arthur informed his father. “Or… chicken.”

 

“Hm,” Uther mumbled, tucking into his own plate. “Must be a new development, seeing as you quite happily ate it on New Year Day.”

 

His entire face seemed to be beginning to process something.

 

Gwen swallowed. _Oh, God! He’s going to work it out._

 

“ _I_ can’t stand the smell of poultry meat,” Morgana declared, trying to put her earlier interactions behind her by trying to sound as jovial as possible. “Not since the chickens—”

 

Uther dropped his folk.

 

“Here we go, every Ostara! If I hear _one more word_ about chickens—”

 

“—are so poorly treated on some farms!” Morgana went, trying to ignore him, “It’s _disgraceful_ how they ram the poor little things into cages for their eggs where they can’t move and when they can’t do that anymore, take them out and _slaughter_ them.”

 

Ygraine bit her bottom lip. She wished Morgana and Uther would stop gunning for a fight. They were showing the family up in front of Gwen. She was already annoyed from her tiff earlier with Uther, and the longer this went on the shorter Ygraine felt her usually long-temper getting.

 

“Great,” Arthur finally said, unable to stay silent anymore. “We’re sitting here eating dinner and you’re talking to us about _battery farms_. Thanks, Morgana!”

 

“It’s the Ostara tradition,” Morgana retorted.

 

“Morgana, please…” Ygraine whispered softly, rubbing her temples.

 

“Yes, shall we change the subject to something that will not ruin Mother’s wonderful dinner?” Morgause agreed.

 

“I’m just saying that if we want good eggs we should treat the chickens nicely,” Morgana declared. “A free range egg always tastes nicer than an ‘intense farm’ egg.”

 

Arthur lifted his glass of wine in mock toast.

 

“Great! Let’s drink to that and forget all about it.”

 

“Yes, cheers!” Morgause agreed, doing the same.

 

 _“I doubt there is even a difference,”_ Uther muttered.

 

“Dinner is delicious!” Gwen said suddenly, loudly and awkwardly. This grating conversation was not helping her nausea. “V-Very nice.”

 

“Hm-mm,” Arthur hummed, taking a massive bite. “Delicious!”

 

“But only to be expected by Albion’s best celebrity cook,” Morgause tail-ended the praise, hoping to bury the chicken-and-egg conversation for good.

 

Ygraine smiled. Uther again as he grumpily drank some more wine. He kept looking at Gwen with prying eyes, and she was very weary of the fact he was watching her. She didn’t seem to be eating much so to Uther it proved that good food was wasted on the working classes, and that his wife always made too much.

 

There was some seven or eight minutes of polite silence until finally Arthur couldn’t stand it anymore. He reminded himself of why he and Gwen had come in the first place and decided that, since the atmosphere was already thick with tension, he may as well do it now.

 

“Listen, everyone. There is something that I... well,” he looked to Gwen, who looked both resigned yet mortified that they were going to drop this bombshell now. It seemed only right given dinner wasn’t likely to get any worse. “There is something _important_ that we need to tell all of you.”

 

Uther put the glass down with a worried start.

 

He had put the pieces together and immediately feared the worst. These two were either moving in together, engaged or... no, _she couldn’t be!_

 

Before he could say anything Morgause jumped in, silencing him.

 

“What is it?” she asked with a polite smile.

 

“Don’t get too excited,” Morgana teased. “Arthur couldn’t be interesting even if he tried.”

 

The youngest sibling pulled a stroppy face.

 

“Thank you, if you don’t mind I’d like you to take this seriously for a moment. Think you can handle that?”

 

“Oh dear, it _must_ be big,” Morgana said sarcastically, picking up her own wine glass for a sip. “He wants us to be _serious_. Well, what is it?”

 

“Morgana, stop teasing your brother,” Ygraine said calmly. “But yes, do tell us. We could do with some... nice news.”

 

Frankly, she would take _any_ news that would distract them from either the silence and the arguments.

 

“Well, it is quite important news,” Arthur said tensely. “I don’t know how you will all react...”

 

“Um, Arthur,” Gwen said softly, putting her hand on his. “I think we should just tell them and everyone out of their misery.”

 

He chuckled nervously.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right...”

 

He cleared his throat.

 

“Well—”

 

But Uther spouted out his fear without a second thought and he looked like thunder was crashing behind the whites of his eyes as he did so.

 

“She’s _pregnant_ , isn’t she?”

 

Everyone dropped their folks and glared at Uther for interrupting them with that _rash_ statement. Of course, he ignored them and turned his glassy eyes on his son and sub-daughter-in-law. Gwen looked down awkwardly while Arthur was rendered momentarily speechless.

 

Finally, he threw down his own folk in resignation.

 

“Thanks, Dad.”

 

Everyone else’s heads snapped around to look at Arthur and Gwen in disbelief.

 

 _I bloody knew it!_ Uther thought, angrily. _Now we’re_ stuck _with this girl. Just like that bloody Merlin._

 

“Are you really pregnant?” Ygraine said, finally breaking the silence.

 

Gwen nodded slowly.

 

“Yes, thirteen weeks.”

 

“Have you had your dating scan?” Morgause asked calmly.

 

“Yes, I have the picture—well it’s in my bag upstairs. I can show you all later.”

 

“Lovely,” Uther grumbled. “Are we to assume then that she is _keeping_ it?”

 

“Yes,” Arthur said firmly, bracing himself for the fallout. “ _We_ are.”

 

“So, after everything we went through last time,” Uther rambled heatedly. “After everything _she_ did you were stupid enough to go and do too?”

 

Morgana’s eyes widened with a growing, white fury.

 

“And just who’s **_she_** , the cat’s **_mother_**?”

 

“Morgana, Uther, please,” Ygraine groaned, closing her eyes. Honestly, she was getting a migraine now. “Now is not the time. This… is a lot to process, Arthur.”

 

 “What about your education?” Uther spluttered. “You have your final exams coming up this year—how do you intend to support a baby? I suppose _she’ll_ be leaving the college...”

 

“Why should she?” again, Morgana interrupted. It was like she was looking for a fight. She probably was. As always, she was talking someone else’s plight and taking it as a personal on herself. “Just because she’s a woman—?”

 

Uther lifted his hand to silence her.

 

“My point is that you are both too young to fully understand burden that parenthood will bring... to both of you. You might not be as young as Morgana and Merlin were—” just the tone in his voice when he said his name was filled with venom, “—but you are still young. I just want you to consider all the options before you make a firm... _decision_.”

 

Arthur scowled.

 

“You think we haven’t sat down and discussed these things?” he said tartly. “I’ll admit we’re still working out some things but...”

 

“Still working things through? _Emrys save us_!”

 

Uther slammed down a folk he had picked up for no reason, just to make a notice and demonstrate his fury at what he felt was his son’s stupidity.

 

“I thought you were _smarter_ than this, Arthur,” Uther spat in his direction.

 

“Smarter than me, you mean,” Morgana muttered.

 

“ _Stop it_!” Ygraine said firmly, causing her stepdaughter to slump in her chair with a sour look on her face. “Will everyone please just… calm down?”

 

He glared at his wife.

 

“You’re telling _me_ to calm down?”

 

“Please!” Morgause suddenly said in her cool voice. “You’re not making it any better.”

 

“I don’t know why you’re defending them,” Uther muttered bitterly. “You’re the only one out of the three of you with any common sense.”

 

Morgause narrowed her eyes.

 

“You’re embarrassing Gwen...”

 

“You’re embarrassing everyone,” Ygraine said harshly.

 

“I’m not embarrassed,” Gwen said quietly.

 

It was a pitiful attempt to keep the peace.

 

As she had sat listening to Arthur’s father rant on and on she had been resisting the urge to answer back and thinking how to do it in the least offensive way possible. She looked at the infamous Pendragon Patriarch with near-defiance. Her boyfriend watched the scene with understandable admiration.

 

“Although I have to say,” Gwen said politely with a tint of sarcasm, “I am sorry that my state of being has caused _you_ such offense, Mr. Pendragon.”

 

“You do realise this will be in the papers, don’t you?” Uther rambled. “It might not be as bad as Morgana’s case but it’ll still be in those trashy tabloids and magazines. An article on the _loose morals_ of Uther Pendragon’s family. Nevermind Camelot, it’ll be all over Albion!”

 

Gwen scowled. Everything came down to image with Uther Pendragon. He wanted to present himself as the benevolent statesman, the wise businessman and the perfect family man. He understood the short term use of Gwen to win over the working classes, and possibility there was an added benefit to her pregnancy in the sense that he would now forever have a grandchild whose mother came from Middle-South Quarter. But he could not stand not being in control of the narrative that was the public’s perception of his family.

 

Uther fell back in his chair with exhausted frustration.

 

“This will be worse than that time Morgana and that twat Merlin chained themselves to those trees in that park I had taken over.”

 

“You were going to flatten it and the Druid shrine on it to build ugly flat blocks on it,” Morgana retorted. “We were protesting against the destruction of one of the few remaining green areas in Camelot.”

 

“It didn’t work, did it?” he growled back. “The blocks still went up.”

 

“I caused you embarrassment,” his younger daughter finished proudly. “That was good enough for me!”

 

“The extra embarrassment came when four months later you announced at this very dinner table that you were pregnant. By that twat—”

 

“Stop using that word,” Ygraine snapped.

 

“—Merlin, no less. It might never have happened if it hadn’t been for those bloody trees!”

 

Arthur snorted. Morgana would have shagged all his friends given half the chance, trees or no trees, just to annoy him so she’d have got around to Merlin eventually. He dared not say this out loud, though.

 

“What am I going to do with all of you?” Uther sighed dismally. “This is a sorry thing.”

 

As this whole thing had gone on Ygraine had become more and more frustrated. Uther’s outbursts had been the worst part; anyone would have thought Arthur had told him he had murdered someone and asked his father’s help to dispose of the body!

 

She sighed, glancing at her son.

 

“Have you thought of marriage.”

 

Arthur and Gwen looked at each other.

 

“Well,” Arthur said slowly.

 

“We were just going to...” Gwen began quietly.

 

Uther slammed the table.

 

“Wonderful! My second grandchild is _also_ going to be a _bastard_.”

 

“What, are we living in mythical times now?!” Morgana growled back again. “What is wrong with you?!”

 

That was it! Ygraine threw down her folk with a… remarkably lady-like wrist action and stood. Now all eyes were on her.

 

It was all so bizarre to see Arthur’s mother ‘snap’ that Gwen half expected to wake up and find this had all been a nightmare.

 

Sadly, this was all real.

 

“For gods’ sake, Uther!” she declared, clutching her head. “Will you stop your rambling, and Morgana would you stop _needling_ him!?”

 

Uther stared at her, silent. Morgana once again restored to the passive little girl she had been earlier. Despite being meek as a young doe, Ygraine’s scolding was a rare thing to behold.

 

“Can we all please just _finish_ dinner without starting a Neo-Calann?” she continued, strained. Morgause sighed, the only one who had managed to seemingly keep her head during all of this. “And please can we just take time to _process_ Arthur’s news?”

 

Arthur swallowed, ashamed.

 

“I’m… sorry,” he muttered, taking Gwen’s hand. “Maybe now wasn’t the best time to bring this up?”

 

Gwen wasn’t sure any time would have been good for the Pendragon clan.

 

“We’re sorry, Ygraine.”

 

“You have nothing to be sorry for, my dear,” Ygraine said weakly, sitting down again and taking a deep breath.

 

Uther picked up his glass again. “It wasn’t the best time.”

 

“Uther,” Ygraine said firmly. “Please. Just. _Shh…_ ”

 

For some reason, this felt more embarrassing to Uther than any of the raging on for the last half an hour to the whole family. It was like being shamed by a primary school teacher.

 

Ygraine allowed a brief silence to wash over the table. The entire room went quiet. Nobody would even move. The Pendragon family were dead silent, watching her like a hawk. Gwen sat not knowing what to make of anything. Frankly, she was still waiting to wake up.

 

Finally, the mother exhaled.

 

Everyone was still.

 

She looked over Arthur and Gwen, smiling.

 

“Congratulations both of you,” she told them. “Children are... such a blessing. I wish you both all the best – and for the love of the Gods, _don’t get married_.”

 

Uther gulped. “Ygraine…?”

 

“You heard me,” Ygraine whispered, shakily.

 

Ygraine then picked up her plate and silently marched out of the room. Uther didn’t even have the presence of mind to ask where she was going. He just pursed his lips. It wasn’t long before Morgause was out of her chair, chasing after her mother.

 

She briefly stopped to pat Gwen on the shoulder.

 

“Congratulations, Gwen. Sorry things have got… out of hand.”

 

Morgana was also in quick pursuit. She shot her fiercest look at Uther before giving Gwen a hug from behind the chair.

 

“Congrats! Let me know if you want any advice about pregnancy. The short version is – it’s horrible but worth it.”

 

She then turned tail after Ygraine and Morgause, leaving Arthur and Gwen alone with Uther. They sat in silence as he sipped a glass of wine and appeared unaffected though, in reality, he didn’t know what to do.

 

Gwen glanced uneasily at Arthur, who was obviously a little befuddled. Clearly this a very, very unusual situation even for his family.

 

She slipped her hand into his.

 

Arthur looked down at their joined hands and managed a small smile. They both stood from their chairs to leave.

 

“I’m sorry, Father,” was all he could manage to say.

 

Uther cleared his throat.

 

“So am I.”


End file.
